Chapter 69: And All Was Quiet

Dusk had fallen over the central Riverlands, leaving not but a reflection of the sun beneath the horizon while the pale white moon added what light it could to the waters of the God's Eye and the rolling woodland of the landscape. Stabbing into the sky were the scarred towers of Harrenhal, so young in the scheme of things but heralding more battles before its walls than any in recent decades.

One would only marvel at the fact that it was as old as the realm that now ruled this land. It had survived its first great trial, emerging victorious against itself in more than one way.

But none of the ruling house felt the spoils of victory that night. None the bending of the knee of the remaining Westermen. None the execution of the traitors and religious zealots who refused to heel, Lucas Harroway prominent among the former and Joffrey Doggett the senior of the latter. None the amity and mercy brought on by the pardoning of the soft traitors, whose only crime had been to side with the son of the late King once the treason had already been made, their good faith drawing the mildest of rebuke from the victor.

No, this was a solemn occasion at best, the greatest grief at worst. For in the fields strewn among the battlefield rested a funeral pyre. One that contained within the King-claimant himself. The son of the former King, who in truth was the son of the current King, loved by all whose only crime had been to trust the wrong people.

Clad in all black, the same could be said for Alyssa Velaryon. Widowed again, though memories of her second husband held nothing positive anymore - except for what she was growing in her belly, for certain. She'd born five children, she knew the signs. The one facet of Rogar Baratheon she still loved. That she couldn't ever not love.

Hand on her stomach, she watched with unshed tears as the guardsmen lowered her eldest boy onto the unlit pyre. One by one the members of her family stepped before the still body of her son to say their goodbyes. Viserys was in tears, as was Saera Stark. Rhaenys tried to be stoic but in her own grief she couldn't, drawing back with a slight sob - her dead son wouldn't be cremated, but interred in the Crypts of Winterfell as was the Stark way. Alys, on the other hand, starting to show her pregnancy significantly, was stoic to the extreme. There wasn't even an expression on her face as she stared hollowly at her husband's body.

Everyone wanted to comfort her, the one whose father had helped set the events in motion that led to this tragedy, but no one knew how to. Wordlessly, she walked away. Allowed to sit as she simply gazed ahead without moving.

Sighing, Alyssa herself approached Aegon's body - only to be joined by the one other Targaryen that hadn't given his respects. "Alyssa." Maegor's voice was soft, so unlike him. "I'm sorry."

They walked up the raised pyre together, Alyssa looking up at him. The man that had been the bane of her existence for so long… and the one she most truly loved. "I know," she murmured. "I'm sorry too." A conversation they would have later, but not before this was done. Aegon Targaryen, grandson of the Conqueror and Queen Rhaenys, was dressed much as his namesake was. In full armor, a warrior and dragonrider with a sword placed on his chest. "Egg," Alyssa murmured, leaning down to kiss his cheek one last time.

"My son…" She almost didn't hear it, but for the first time Maegor had allowed himself to address Aegon for who he truly was. "Rest well, you are at peace." Tears pricked Alyssa's eyes for what might've been, but such was forlorn.

Not one person in the crowd spoke as mother and true yet unknown father drew the red shroud over Prince Aegon's body. Again silent as they stepped off the pyre, walking to where the others stood. Alyssa hid her tears, wishing to be strong for her son's journey into the afterlife, awaiting for the King to grant his command.

It came swiftly. "Dracarys." And Balerion so did as bidden, unleashing a long stream of dragonfire onto the funeral pyre, sheathing the corpse of Aegon Targaryen in the red-orange cloud. Alyssa couldn't help it then. Seeking out Maegor - her emotions breaking - she cried in his arms. The tears for not just their son, but for all that had been lost.

The feast that followed was as somber as the ceremony, filled with speeches toasting the deceased and without malice to any that remained. Those capitulated Westermen were still in the dungeons until Maegor and Rhaena could convene to decide what to do with them, leaving those in attendance being both those that fought for the King and Queen and those that sided with Aegon's doomed attempt. A reconciliation, this feast served, united in mourning for a young, bright beacon of House Targaryen's future.

Alyssa ate little, all food tasting like ash to her. After only an hour she departed from the hall, heading for her chambers.

She hadn't been there for long before there was a knock. Alyssa bid them entry, considering she hadn't changed out of her mourning dress. "Lyssa?"

"Maegor?" It was he, in his Kingly garb and carrying a flagon of arbor gold. They hadn't drank a drop that night. "Is it wise for you to be here?"

"I am the King, and the guards protect the royal guest chambers, not each chamber… unless you want me gone?"

It was then she realized that all she wanted was him to be there. "No, sit. I could use the company." He did so, pouring each of them a goblet. Alyssa savored the taste. "This is how it all started."

He raised a brow. "You bored at one of Aenys' feasts, slipping out only for me to follow? I suppose it is." There was a pregnant pause. "I hate myself for feeling levity in this moment. For feeling anything but pain and sorrow."

"How do you think I feel?" Alyssa wiped away a tear, downing her goblet and asking for another - which Maegor gave her. "It was my stupidity that caused all this."

"I don't blame you… Baratheon and Harroway would've found a way to start this without you."

"You don't know that."

"We both know that." He reached over and took her hand. "And even still, he latched on to your own pain and manipulated you."

Alyssa smiled sadly. "And I let him." She looked away. "Only because I never stopped loving you, and it hurt me that we couldn't be together… somehow the only way I could survive was thinking you took advantage of me."

Maegor sighed. "I shouldn't have let any of it come to that."

"No… even if I could go back, I'd still have accepted your love. Fallen for you. It was the happiest I ever was." Alyssa reached out to squeeze his hand. "I only regret what I did after."

He chuckled. "We both have many regrets, then. I suppose that is the commonality between us, one of them."

"Kessa, it is."

Again there was silence. "You're pregnant?" he asked.

Alyssa didn't bother to wonder how he knew. "Yes. Rogar's child, much as I would rather it be yours."

"In a way, I do too."

She shifted closer to him without meaning to. "You love my daughter."

"With my heart."

His earnestness of that fact seemed to make all her hate for him slowly start to vanish, replaced with a feeling she'd suppressed for so long. "Is that because she is my daughter?" Alyssa hated herself for that question, but had to know.

He sighed. "I love Rhaena for who she is… but many of the traits that make her the woman I love come from you, Lyssa."

Warmth coursed through her, and it wasn't all because of the wine. "I've been given far more than I deserve due to my actions. I am more of a villain in the annals of history than one who has done good, such as my children or yourself."

"History has yet to be written, and you have plenty of years to make up for what you believe you have done, Alyssa. Know that what you've given me and the realm, nothing but good." His eyes bored onto her, the same expression he gave her so long ago. Was it the drink, or his true feelings? Whatever it was, Alyssa knew it would never escape this chamber. "I regret I never could give you joy."

"I regret that too… all would've been avoided then… or everything was inevitable, as is my love for you."

She was flawed, and so was he. Perhaps that was what brought them together to begin with, and it tore them apart. Alyssa made her peace with that, just as she had made her peace with him as her daughter's loving husband and loyal King.

As the moon rose higher over the landscape, she allowed herself that one night and the joy it brought her aching heart. Heralding the last chapter of her life that would atone for the rest.

Having been whisked away in the dark of night atop Arrax, Alysanne had been denied the opportunity to see the rolling contours and majestic waters of the Riverlands. Arya talked nonstop about her journey south all those years ago, the great weirwood of Raventree Hall, and the magnificent game she had personally hunted. Alysanne managed to experience each of them in her journey towards Harrenhal now that the war had finally ended, and she loved every single moment of it. A memory she would treasure.

Not everyone agreed with her assessment. "Gods, this is interminable." She bit her knuckles, trying not to laugh at her brother's constant complaining. "Why couldn't you be bigger?" he beseeched Vermithor. "Then it would've been a day's ride!"

The dragon, cocking his head at his bonded companion, merely hooted and leapt into the air. Joining Silverwing in a playful dance together. It made Aly smile.

It made Jae groan. "I didn't know you hated me!"

"Oh, Jae, shut up!" Arya rolled her eyes, riding alongside him. "You've been a pain in the arse for the last week since we set off south. Enough already."

"Tell me I'm not wrong?" He swatted at some flies. "Aside from when we bedded in keeps, this has been monotonous and…" Jae swallowed, his irritation changing to melancholy. "I want to see muna… and our sister and brother."

Brother. Singular. Arya's put off expression at his conduct vanished, changed to concern as tears formed in Alysanne's eyes. They guided their horses to either side of Jaehaerys, her brother and their shared love. Arya pecked him on the cheek, and then Alysanne right after.

Truth be told for Aly, the enjoying the sights and marveling at the beauty of nature had kept her mind from wandering to dark places. The death of their brother, the shattering of their family. Rhaena's letter worded that muna was inconsolable. She had Rhaena, and Viserys… but Alys needed support too as she was left widowed and pregnant. They were all a little impatient, especially Jaehaerys.

She didn't hold it against him, and neither did Arya. Sometimes it was only their nights when he snuck into the tent or bedchamber she and Arya shared that kept the dark thoughts away. Nights in each other's arms, sleeping or… not sleeping.

Mayhaps it made Alysanne feel alive, and that was what mattered.

The arrival at Harrenhal was a muted affair, but Alysanne was fine with that. She wanted not a spectacle given the circumstances, and what she and Jaehaerys were given was more than fine. A small welcoming party, at the center being her uncle, aunt, cousin Saera, Viserys… and her muna.

Dismounting, she did not care if it was against protocol. She pulled up the hem of her dress enough to run to her family. Viserys was the first to embrace her, brother and sister clutching each other tightly as tears welled in them. "I thought I would lose you," murmured Aly.

"The gods were good that I remain…" He trailed off, sighing. They weren't for their cousin, or their brother.

Saera was next. "Aly, you look well. So does Jaehaerys."

"As well as any of us can be in this instance," Rhaenys cut in, going to hug Alysanne.

She bit her lip. "I'm sorry, aunt. I can't imagine your sorrow…"

"Unfortunately, I can imagine yours." Rhaenys kissed her on the forehead. "May the gods never let you be able to empathize with me." Alysanne found herself agreeing with that, morbid as it was.

Squeezing her aunt's waist one last time, she broke the embrace just as she heard her brother's voice raised. "Why did you do it? Why?" He made a furious gesture at their muna, eyes narrowed and only barely containing himself. "Our family was near shattered as it is and you made it worse…"

Alyssa Velaryon, once proud and strong, looked as devastated as could be. "I cannot justify myself, my son. Only that I am just as hurt as you are."

Jaehaerys opened his mouth to speak again, to further berate their mother. Alysanne reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it. Cutting him off, he looked back with annoyance in his eyes. Please Jae… don't do this. Their muna had made a mistake, her anger at their uncle misplaced for the longest of time, but Alysanne understood how a woman could be manipulated. She was hurt at her most vulnerable, and that demanded sympathy rather than condemnation.

She asked for none of this, and Alysanne hoped Jae would understand about their muna. He had made the same mistake himself.

If he did was the question, but at her earnest look his annoyance seemed to evaporate. The tension in his shoulders starting to deflate. Sighing, he looked back at their mother. "Muna… you did wrong, but so did I in the past. I cannot condemn you without knowing I must condemn myself."

A tear fell down Alyssa's cheek and it made Alysanne's heart break. "You never deserved to think wrong of your family. It is my fault for that and I am so sorry, my son."

Jae offered a small smile. "You're forgiven." Tugging Alysanne with him, he hugged their muna, and so did she. Alyssa began to sob openly as she returned the embrace of the both of them - mother and children finally reunited from since before the war.

While this was Daeron Qoherys' keep, having backed the wrong side in the civil war he had been lucky to escape with his life and his land intact, and so meekly accepted the effective occupation of Harrenhal by Maegor and Rhaenys. Thus it was their uncle and aunt's quartermasters and army stewards that controlled the keep - one hushed whisper to their aunt had secured a single chamber for Arya and Alysanne. She'd been glad to 'ensure you and your friend can comfort each other in this painful time' but from the twinkle in her eye it was clear Rhaenys understood the truth behind it.

Alysanne noticed how she and Gelina of the Free Folk very brazenly shared a bedchamber, after all. If it helps ease her pain from cousin Aegon's loss, then I cannot blame you, aunt. They looked at each other as she and Arya did.

When they did finally head off to bed close to the hour of the wolf, every other waking moment spent with Viserys and muna, Alysanne pressed a quick chaste kiss to Jae's lips. "I'll leave the door unlocked for you," she whispered in his ear, feeling a little daring and licking the shell. She blushed at the wanton act, but from his lidded eyes and slight grin, the embarrassment went away.

"Count on it," he replied back, winking and coaxing a giggle after her. Alysanne ducked into the guest bedchamber, leaving Arya to say her own quick goodbye.

Arya entered a minute after, looking quite beautiful in her own wild way. Unlike most nights where she'd rush to embrace Aly, she sighed and began disrobing. "Are you sure you're alright, Aly?" she asked.

Alysanne already had donned her nightgown and slipped underneath the quilts. "How is it that we can move on from this? My kepa, uncle Brandon, Aegon, my cousin Aegon… we've all lost so much…"

Slipping in beside her, Arya quickly shimmied till their bodies were touching, snatching Aly into her arms. The young women held each other close, shivering in their embrace. Alysanne didn't feel any shame in burying her face into Arya's pale, shapely neck, leaving feather-light kisses to show her affections. Aly merely rubbed her back. "I do not know, Aly. I can't tell you to move on from their deaths… only that in the face of all of what happened, at least we are alive. We survived it, and I would think the fallen would want us to carry their banner rather than our spirits joining them in death."

"What do you mean?"

Arya cupped her face, kissing her softly. "Those who mourn too much, it is said in the North that their spirits have joined the fallen in death."

She blinked. "That's deep… Kepa would've never wanted that of us. And neither would Aegon." The pain remained, but at least there was no guilt welling in Alysanne at the prospect of continuing with her life. At feeling joy for the love she still had. "Thank you." And this time it was she that kissed Arya. "I love you."

"I love you too." Kissing once more, this time it deepened, Aly being pushed down on the bed as her northern love crawled atop her. Time forgotten as their bodies melded together in a sweet, sensual dance.

Such was how Jaehaerys found them. If he seemed upset that they didn't notice him until he crawled in with them, he never vocalized it. Not that Aly worried on it for too long, seeing that his cheeks were stained with dried tears.

It took all she could to make him feel alive that night. All Arya could, but damned if they didn't succeed.

She certainly felt the bliss of life in that bed.

Alaric was around dragons all his life, and knew they would see Winterfell before those in Winterfell saw them. He was peeled for roars, and when he heard the three of them - one loud and deep while two were shrill but no less loud - he reached over for Ryah's hand and squeezed it. She squeezed back, melding herself to his side. Alaric appreciated it.

This reunion was to be bittersweet, and he needed her. Ryah clearly was willing to give whatever he needed.

As the guards and household staff dashed about, the dragons were finally spotted. The massive Arrax returning for the first time since the start of the war, great wings beating at the air as he circled over Winterfell. Two figures rode atop him, while for the smaller Tessarion, only one sat astride the blue dragon's saddle. Alaric's elation at seeing his muna and sister after so long - his muna after much longer - was dampened at the empty saddle atop Vermax. His cries weren't as loud, and called to him with a strain of mourning.

He wiped a tear from his eyes. No, he wouldn't cry, he'd be strong.

"It's alright to be sad, Alaric," Ryah's gentle voice serenaded him as he watched the three dragons slowly descending towards the courtyard.

Alaric shut his eyes. "I am Lord of Winterfell, I cannot." She only held him tighter, squeezing his waist.

Arrax landed first, his frame still dwarfed by Winterfell and fitting within the courtyard. He looked tired, his body lined with scars that had never been there before. Not crippled or old, but just weathered, like the household guards that had gone North of the Wall with his muna and kepa and came back after the hard fighting. Vermax and Tessarion, landing right after, looked less scarred. The former was far more tired than Arrax though, Alaric knowing why.

Saera was on the ground first, Tessarion not being as tall as Arrax. Their muna followed, dressed as a proper Stark dragonrider with a northern-style battledress and a sword slung along her back - Ice. She helped another woman down the spines, Alaric recognizing Gelina of the Free Folk. They acted with propriety, but their actions seemed… intimate. A gentle touch of the arm, an affectionate glance. Like what his muna and kepa used to do.

Mayhaps he should feel angry, but with the small smile on his muna's face Alaric let it go. Anything for her to be happy.

But then her eyes met his. "Alaric." She rushed to him.

He mustered up his courage, stepping out of Ryah's embrace. "Winterfell is yours, your Grace," Alaric said in his best strong voice, but it was wavering by the end. Lip quivering as he held back his sobs.

His muna watched him with the greatest sadness. Made worse as Gelina and a group of Stark guards who worked as dragonkeepers in Winterfell began working down the coffin down from Arrax's back. The one containing Aegon, slain before his time. "Alaric, my son." She opened her arms, wordlessly telling him it was alright to let go.

Gods, he wasn't strong enough. "Muna." Breaking down for the first time since he received the raven speaking of the end of the war but also of Aegon's sacrifice, he threw himself into his muna's arms. The sobs pouring out uncontrollably. Alaric nestled himself into the warmth of his muna, only barely taller than him at this point. Rhaenys hugging him fiercely and crying too.

"Brother…" They both accepted Saera joining them, the three Starks simply locked in a close embrace, looked upon by the entirety of Winterfell with sympathy. All the North loved their Warden and his family, and their pain was shared by all.

No one knew how long the moment lasted, but eventually their tears had abated, leaving just an empty sadness. Alaric, wiping his red eyes and nose, pulled back. "Muna… I… I took care of Lya…" He pointed to the maid that held her, the little girl staring at the dragons as if entranced.

Rhaenys covered her mouth with her hands and approached the child. "Lyanna, my beautiful babe." Lyanna only then noticed Rhaenys, and immediately reached out for her, trying to wriggle out of the maid's grasp. Their muna snatched her up and began to pepper her with kisses, coaxing a lovely laugh out of the youngest Stark.

With Saera gripping his left hand and Ryah coming up to take his right, in spite of it all the scene made them smile. A winter rose blooming in the midst of a blizzard. One bit of happiness to herald the joy at the end of this dark tunnel of grief.

The family never spent one moment apart for the rest of the day and evening. Lunch turned to hours in the solar together talking before dinner, of everything under the sun from war stories to shared memories of Aegon and Brandon. Gelina tried to give them their privacy after their first meal, but Rhaenys bid her to stay. It was awkward at first with the once prisoner, but by the end Alaric had accepted her - Saera already had.

She made his muna happy in the midst of this grief, and Alaric knew his kepa would want that since he wasn't there. It didn't hurt that Gelina, her allegences now firmly with Houses Stark and Targaryen, was simply amazing. Promising to help train him going further, and her stories of life beyond the Wall riveting and almost managing to make him forget all he'd lost.

By the end, they all tiredly went to their chambers. He and Saera to their childhood chambers, while his muna and Gelina didn't hide their desire to share the Lord's bedchamber - one he'd move into once he came of age as they all decided as a family.

So much had changed, so much had been lost, but at least House Stark had made it through the gauntlet and come out alive. Hurt, but alive. Such was Alaric's thought as he fell asleep.

It was a restless sleep. Not with nightmares of Aegon's death, of his kepa's brutal death that plagued him for many moons, but another sort of dream. Of flying, of dragonfire. A storm brewing in which salvation could only come from ascending to the skies. He tried to leap, to run, to swim, but the voice kept calling to him. Rider… rider… rider…

He awoke with a start, his direwolf astride him and licking his face. "Boy, stop!"

The wolf bounded off the bed and began scratching at the door. Alaric groaned and moved to grab him… but suddenly the call hit him.

Rider… rider… rider…

Just like the dream.

Opening the door in a daze, his wolf drew him forward. Alaric followed.

"Alaric?" It was Ryah. "What are you doing?"

He knew not what to say, only that he wanted her with him. "Come." She nodded and followed in but a cloak over her shift.

The dragons slept outside the North Wall as they usually did, surrounded by the charred bones of their meals. Arrax and Tessarion slept well, both curled up for warmth, but Vermax looked equally in distress as Alaric had been. "Alaric…" Ryah said, grabbing his hand as he tried to go to the dragon. "It's too dangerous."

"I must. He called to me."

"You sure?"

He merely nodded. "Stay here, Ryah. I'll be back." He bid his wolf to stay with Ryah, only for the Bolton daughter to kiss him. It was quick and impulsive, but it lingered. Warmth spreading through Alaric.

It broke though, and after kissing her on the cheek he headed for Vermax. The dragon's eyes opened as he approached, Vermax raising his neck and head to stare at him. 'You've come.'

"You called to me," Alaric replied in perfect Valyrian, if accented.

Vermax, being hatched and raised in the North, was used to it. 'I long for my rider… he was taken far too soon.'

"I know. I miss him too." He shifted his feet. "Do you want me as your rider?"

'Kessa.' The dragon whined a bit. 'Is it wrong, that I wish for you so soon after his death?'

Alaric bit his lip. "I cannot answer that…" He thought of his muna and Gelina, why she moved on so quickly. "But Aegon wouldn't want you to be riderless. He loved you."

Silent, Vermax seemed to accept it for he lowered his shoulder. 'Let's go then, rider.' Looking back at Ryah, Alaric saw her smiling, bidding him to go forward. To accept the long-awaited gift. And this Alaric did.

Soon he was soaring through the skies under the light of the half-moon. Laughing and whooping as the direwolves of Winterfell howled beneath him. Brother… thank you. Finally he was a dragonwolf. Finally his muna's blood had called to him.

In this night, there would be a dawn.

"When did this happen?"

Tyanna giggled at the shock in her expression. "Just a few days ago. Happened inexplicably but certainly Ceryse and I weren't distressed."

Rhaena bit her lip and stared down in awe at the crib centered in the middle of the nursery, the three nursemaids tasked with watching over the Crown Prince waiting patiently and respectfully in different corners of the chamber. Daemon slept blissfully, turned completely on his side. His little arm was thrown about the tiny dragon hatchling with such loving intimacy, pulling the curled-up creature to him. Scales dark red as blood mixed with a faded black, it slowly raised up and down with each puff of breath, also in the middle of slumber.

It was a beautiful dragon. "Have you named him?"

Her wife nodded. "I took the auspices, and only the best omens… this dragon will be fierce in battle but ever protective. I've called him Caraxes."

"Caraxes." Gently, Rhaena leaned down, promptly stroking the hatchling first. His eye slithered open as if to study her, then closed with a purr as she stroked the scales. A good result, and Rhaena felt safe to now caress Daemon's soft skin and silver hair. "The maids haven't had trouble?"

Looking back at them, Tyanna gave Rhaena an amused glint. "Caraxes may have nipped and belched smoke at them… Ceryse and I managed to calm him down. I think he knows we're Daemon's munas in spirit if not in blood."

"Dragons are smart that way." In her heart and soul, Rhaena was overjoyed. The ultimate mark of a Valyrian prince was their ability to bond to a dragon. Daemon's egg hadn't hatched until now, so she had been convinced he would bond with a living dragon… apparently she just had to be patient. I mean… it was the case for myself, Jae, and Ally. "This is perfect."

"Perfect to herald in the new chapter, a light in the darkness of grief." Rhaena turned to Tyanna, pulling her to her. Kissing her in approval of the statement. Tyanna quickly reciprocated.

Eager to see Ceryse again and restore the truth that they had survived this war, Rhaena practically tugged the giggling Tyanna to their bedchamber. She'd greeted Ceryse earlier when she landed in the Dragonpalace so there wasn't the urgency of seeing her after a long time apart… but when they entered the bedchamber it wasn't just Ceryse that she would see. "Maegor!"

Her husband didn't wait for her to run into his arms, for he scooped Rhaena up and crushed her in his embrace. She let out a cry of joy as he began to pepper her face with kisses. It was one thing to read in letters that he had survived his brush with fate, but it was another to see it for herself that aside for a few scabbed cuts and fading bruises, the father of her children was alive and unhurt.

His own life had proven it could easily be the opposite.

Letting her down so he could greet Tyanna with the same affection, Rhaena stepped to Ceryse. "You did not tell me he had come." She kissed her on the lips and reached around to palm her arsecheek. "Why is that?"

Ceryse took Rhaena's other hand and brought it to her other arsecheek, enjoying the attention. "We both thought it would be a nice surprise."

"What a surprise," Tyanna moaned, head tilted back to allow her neck to be lavished.

There would be time for deep conversations. For tears and sobs and comforting embraces within the confines of their chambers. All that would come, but for now the clear idea on their minds was to reconnect. To prove they were alive and well in the best way they knew how. Rhaena certainly didn't object when Ceryse shoved her to the bed in a surprising gesture of dominance.

Truly it sent a thrill through her.

She watched as Ceryse pulled her loose dress from her body, revealing a still flat stomach and busty chest unencumbered by smallclothes. Rhaena approved, mouth watering while shucking off her own dress. It was harder, but Ceryse's eager hands were a big help. "Welcome home, niece," she husked, kissing up her body. "My dragonlady."

The bed dipped as Maegor climbed atop it, Rhaena watching as Tyanna perched herself on all fours, wiggling her arse for their husband. He caressed her pregnant belly before palming the large arsecheeks, a sight that made Rhaena's pleasure even greater. "I did it for you, aunt," she replied to Ceryse, who was now kissing her neck.

"I know… I love you." Ceryse cooed in delight as Rhaena's wandering hands gripped her supple arse. She began to knead her rear as if dough. Truly her wife had been blessed by the gods with such an asset. "How do you… mmm… want me?"

Tyanna gasped, her cuntlips very clearly pierced by the organ that had so gladly defiled each of the three Queens. Rhaena only had eyes for Ceryse in the moment. "Together. Join me, I want to see your face."

Smiling wide, Ceryse leaned down to kiss Rhaena, their tongues winding together as she positioned her legs and hips. It was quite a change to take the passive role when with her wives, but Rhaena adored it. Gasping her pleasure as Ceryse scraped her teeth against her neck. Bucking her hips against Ceryse's when her wife mashed their gooey cunts together. A dream, this was a dream she didn't wish to wake up from.

"Oh gods," she heard her wife moan, grinding her furiously. So entranced that she failed to even kiss Rhaena's neck, instead moaning her pleasure. Rhaena shifted to kiss her, but slide Ceryse did, leaving her teats in her face. Not unwelcome. Pert nipples hard from arousal, begging to be sucked. "Fuck!" Ceryse cried out when Rhaena did just that.

Mashing her face into them, dangling from their shared gyrations, Rhaena sucked large blooms of red into the flesh before latching onto a nipple. She sucked hard, laving at it like a babe would a mother, reveling in the moans of the woman above. As Ceryse spasmed, Rhaena shifted her hips in a circular motion, forcing her to release low pitched moans.

"Ohh fuck. You love sucking on your aunt's teats don't you?"

Rhaena bit down, making her scream just as Tyanna screamed a furious climax beside them. "I do love them."

"Such a loving and doting wife…" Insistent fingers tugged hard at her silver locks. "Gods damn me… you really are a blessing," Ceryse moaned out, doubling her thrusts against Rhaena's cunt. Nubs thrashing against each other so deliciously.

Their climax was inevitable, shared and ever so perfect. A marvel to the impossible adoration they had nevertheless created in the midst of such devastation and madness.

With her aunt rolling off her, Rhaena only had a short time to recover when a heavy weight draped over her. Something hard poking at her nethers. She opened her eyes to see the very different but very desirable masculine features of her husband staring back at her. "Maegor…"

Maegor thrust into her cunt, and Rhaena melted. She was still very sensitive from her climax, and his cock could hit places that Tyene or Ceryse's tongues and fingers couldn't - fuck, all of it made her so aroused.

"Why," he began, starting his thrusts slow but deep. Seeming to delight in her tight depths. "Why did you do it?"

Rhaena was near cum drunk, her mind swirling. "What did… I do?" Her body rocked with each of his thrusts, breasts bouncing and arse driven into the bed.

"Why'd you leave?" He kissed her deeply, tongue probing her mouth as his cock did her cunt. "I wanted you here… safe."

So that was it. Rhaena gripped his shoulders, wrapping her legs round his arse. Urging him faster and deeper. "I had to… oh…" He picked up the pace and it felt so good. "Do what I had to do…"

"She did." Tyanna leaned over, curled into her side, sucking on one of her teats. Across her body, Ceryse did the same thing, only making Rhaena softly cum from the attention.

Maegor was nowhere near done. "Almost… lost you."

"Was never in danger…"

"I know…" He bottomed out in her hard, making her wail. He did so three times after, their hips smacking together. "Don't scare me like that again."

"I won't, I promise." They were finally at peace. They could settle and simply rule in peace, loving each other and building their family. The thought appealed greatly to her. "I love you."

"I love you too… I love all three of you."

"We love you too," Ceryse said. Tyanna merely moaned as she sucked Rhaena's teat with abandon.

Surrounded by love, even with the grief and pain she had suffered, Rhaena laid back and just enjoyed their lusts. Lost herself in the pleasure his seed brought her, hoping it would quicken and she would bear him a child of her own.

Finally at peace, hard fought and hard won.

"Another!" Visenya called out to a servant, the young girl rushing over to fill up her goblet. The fourth time that night with Dornish Red. "Bless you, dear," she said, voice slurred. "A toast!" she proclaimed, everyone in the great hall of the dragonpalace paying attention to the last of the Conquerors. "To the Queens and King, Long may they reign!"

"Long may they reign!" It wasn't the first toast and wouldn't be the last on this evening.

The day had seen the official coronation of Rhaena, Maegor, Ceryse, and Tyanna. It had been Visenya herself that placed the crown on Rhaena's head, a circlet of Valyrian steel and amethyst stones that matched the rubied circlet of Maegor's. Rhaena placed that crown on his head, while the both of them crowned Ceryse and Tyanna with their own crowns.

A fitting day, a needed day, heralding the end of the conflict and the return of peace. Would it be a hollow peace like before, a destitute peace, or would it be what she, Rhaenys, and Aegon dreamed of when they set out to unite all of Westeros? Visenya didn't know, but was hopeful.

The ceremony gave way to a feast, and it was the feast to end all feasts. Any of the court that remained in King's Landing was present, even Jaehaerys and Alysanne returned from the North to a loving welcome - Visenya didn't miss the fact that Arya Reed came with them, nor how close all of them seemed. It made her smile.

Visenya ate her fill alongside Daeron Qoherys. She bantered with Tyanna. She commiserated with Alyssa and shared drinks with the last of her generation - Vivienne Tyrell, Argella Baratheon, and Brandon Snow. It was… bittersweet sometimes, but with the delight and wonder of a great peace to follow. And each moment found her getting further and further in her cups.

"Grandmother?" She looked up to see Rhaena standing over her, a concerned smile on her face. "Are you alright?"

Visenya hiccuped but tried to wave her off. "I'm fine, I'm fine… just a little bit of wine…" Her arm felt quite weak as she waved it, a giggle escaping her lips.

Rhaena chuckled. "More than just a little bit, I think." She moved alongside the seated Queen Mother, attempting to lift her up. "Let me take you to your chambers."

"No, stay… celebrate…"

"You are my grandmother and wielded Dark Sister before me. It's the least I can do out of respect."

She was lifted up to her feet, Visenya only just managing to remain upright due to the intoxicating effects of the wine. It felt wrong, this was her coronation feast. "Let someone else…"

"To tell the truth," Rhaena whispered in her ear. "The feast got rather droll after the dancing and the meal wrapped up. I could use the excuse." Visenya, barely able to keep her eyes open, nodded. In her drunken state she thought she heard a toast in her honor, but didn't hear quite well.

The outside sea breeze was helpful. Dissipated some of the fog clouding her mind. "You… you earned all this, granddaughter," she said, only slurring her words slightly.

Rhaena blushed modestly. "Quite an honor, coming from you."

"You deserve it… just like me, you are, Rhaena… a mix of Rhaenys and me." She reached over awkwardly and cupped Rhaena's cheek. "The best of both of us."

Her granddaughter smiled, it growing wide as her lip quivered. "Thank you," she murmured. "I love you, grandmother."

"I love you too."

They walked in silence after that, Visenya managing to make it to her chambers and get dressed, even if it simply meant she let her dress fall away and then don a nightgown. Rhaena pulled back the quilts and allowed Visenya to slip in. The sheets and quilt felt warm and comforting, even if Aegon and Rhaenys weren't there to properly warm her up.

"Rhaena?"

"Yes, grandmother?"

She chuckled. "Go back to your chambers, now. The real coronation celebration awaits." Her laughs grew as Rhaena flushed madly. "Your grandmother, grandfather, and I shook all of the Dragonfort after we were crowned. I expect nothing less."

Shaking her head, Rhaena sputtered a bit before finally responding. "I'll do my best, then." She headed for the door.

"Make those girls of yours walk funny for a moon!" Visenya called out before the door swung shut. A grin on her lips, she lowered her head to the pillow and was out a split-second after.

She was in the field again, though this time it felt far more real. The heat of the volcano in the distance shrouded her wonderfully, and Visenya ran her hands through the tall grass. Giggling as they tickled her palm.

They were both seated in the shade of a tree. Aegon leaning against the trunk and holding Rhaenys in his chest. Her hair was down, smiling as she played with a flower and talked with Aegon. When they both spotted Visenya, their smiles widened.

Visenya ran to them. "Brother, sister!" Her mood was elated at being with them again, if only for a little while. She hoped they would have enough time, for she was starved for them.

But instead of embracing her, devouring her with their kisses and touches, they both stopped. Their smiles now bittersweet. "Senya," Aegon murmured.

She blinked in confusion. "What?"

Rhaenys walked to her, taking her hands in hers. "Welcome home." Visenya's brows furrowed. Not knowing what she meant.

Then she did. "Oh…" A flicker of sadness crossed her expression before she smiled. "Oh."

Only a moment, for she leapt into Aegon and Rhaenys' arms, kissing them in quick succession with all she had.

Visenya Targaryen would never be without warmth again.